Chapter 3

Bethany's bed was a sea of dresses of all colors and shapes, she couldn't find one that suited the occasion.

The plum-colored, strapless, knee-length taffeta dress seemed ordinary to her. She threw a little tantrum and started to take off the tenth dress, when she lowered the neckline she noticed the scar on her abdomen again. The anxiety she had for an explanation was so deep-rooted that her memory combined vague memories of a baby: she held him in her arms and on other occasions she put him to sleep in a crib. Bethany wondered if they were really memories or if her mind was playing dirty and only giving her what she wanted. She made a note to clarify it with Dr. Vitto at the next check-up appointment.

Dressed only in her underwear, she went into the wardrobe and took her time selecting one of the umpteen dresses that were there, one more charming than the last. It seemed amazing to her how she couldn't choose one when they were all elegant.

-Bethany? - She heard Ciro's voice on the other side of the door. Nervous, she pulled a wool sweater from a hook and put it on, left the closet and opened the bedroom door, covering her legs with it.

-What's wrong? -He asked, pretending to be natural.

-My clothes are in your closet too, and I was wondering if I could come pick something out. -Bethany thought about it, and although she'd rather deny him access, she couldn't let him go to dinner in sweats and a T-shirt.

She nodded and opened the door fully. She pulled the edge of her wool sweater over her panties. Ciro behaved decently and avoided looking at her bare legs, although temptation whispered in his ear. If it were up to him, he would have thrown her onto the bed and made love to her on top of the scattered clothes, throwing dinner overboard. But he shouldn't, he had to make her fall in love with him first and then they could do whatever they wanted.

She took a light blue cotton suit that was wrapped in a plastic bag, and before leaving the wardrobe she reached for a long, black dress with shiny trim and silver high-heeled shoes. In the bedroom she handed the latter to Bethany.

-If you're wondering, this is what you were wearing the night we met in Rome. -He showed her the blue suit. -I'll wear what I was wearing that night too.

-Thank you. -the woman said, relieved. Ciro nodded and left, closing the door.

The black dress was a marvel. It had a trail of pearls that started on the left side of the neckline and ended at the right ankle, the only leg that was covered by the fabric. And her thin back was left bare. It was not a bad choice. Now she just had to figure out what hairstyle she would wear. She considered crossing the entire house to ask him what he had done that day, but she refused, refusing the idea of depending on her fiancé even on banal occasions such as a hairstyle. If she had it figured out once, she would be able to figure it out a second time.

She twisted her hair into a bun that she held in place with a very elegant hairpin. She left a loose lock that fell over her forehead and ended a little below her chin. She didn't use much makeup, just a red lip balm and she lined her eyes with a dark shade. She left her room satisfied with the result.

Ciro greeted her at the bottom of the ivory stairs wearing a blue suit and black loafers. He offered her a hand and turned the red-haired woman around, taking in every curve.

-It's the same hairstyle you wore that night. -The Italian said with a singular sparkle in his eyes.

-Do you also wear the same hairstyle? - She asked amused. Ciro ran a hand through his hair, pulled back and fixed with gel.

-The closest thing, to tell the truth, back then I had longer hair.

They left the house in the Mustang. Bethany looked curiously at the car, imagining the moment when she gave it to her fiancé: she would have covered his eyes and driven him, arm in arm, to the porch where the Mustang was parked, wearing a ribbon bow. Ciro, at first, would not believe it, then he would get excited and anxious, and he would get her in and together they would go through the most hidden corners of Florence. If she had to take a positive from not remembering anything, it would be that she could recreate the moments as she wanted. And that's how she would remember that moment, at least until she recovered her memory.

The restaurant he took her to boasted impeccable elegance: the floor was made of a glass-like material, as were the walls. The waiters wore white button-down shirts and red aprons over equally white gabardine trousers. And they walked elegantly, without fussing or chattering. One of the young employees led them to their table on the third floor. Next to a large window through which the moon peeked, she would be the third at dinner.

-This place is beautiful. - Bethany said when they were alone.

-You're absolutely right. I'd heard wonderful things about it, but there's nothing like going in and checking it out. I don't understand how I waited so long to come.

-Is this your first time here?

-Yes. -Ciro said. The same young employee interrupted them to hand him the wine list. The Italian decided on a white Merlot. Alone again, he continued the conversation: -This restaurant, the outdoor breakfast... These are things that I am experiencing for the first time because I would not like to take advantage of you. Also, in our customs there are anecdotes and memories that are bittersweet to me when I am the only one who remembers them. What I try to do is to have us live experiences together that excite us in the same way.

-That's very thoughtful of you. -Bethany acknowledged with a hint of admiration.

They both placed a napkin on their respective laps and the dinner began with good conversation and exquisite dishes. Bethany found Ciro very talkative and friendly, a very pleasant man. He did not let the dinner fall into discomfort and of course, he also took a moment to listen to his fiancée, always with a smile and a special light emanating from his eyes. Bethany already noticed how much in love he was with her and wondered to herself, without daring to express it out loud, if it was ever a reciprocated love. Of course, she still did not seem in love, and the fact is that Ciro was still a new acquaintance.

She was distracted by a cheerful family sitting a considerable distance from the table she shared with her fiancé. It was a heterosexual couple with a giggly little girl who made them laugh. The man she assumed was her father leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then the woman did the same.

A sigh escaped Bethany's lips. She lowered one of her hands to her abdomen to caress the scar. She could see a baby in her memories, small, almost newborn. She looked at the man in front of her, dressed in a tuxedo and concerned about his appearance. Then she thought of the house they lived in with expensive objects and glass everywhere. It didn't seem like an appropriate house for a son, nor did he presume to be a man prepared for such a responsibility.

-I'll go finalize some details at the main office of the firm and take you to the beaches of the coasts. -Ciro commented, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Taking her out of her thoughts. -You always wanted to go, but I never had the time, and you didn't want to go with anyone else, not even alone. I was selfish, but not anymore.

-Are you trying to make me fall in love?

-Isn't it obvious?-Ciro said, sealing his lips with a sip of Merlot. Bethany pushed her already empty plate away and leaned back on the table. Her cleavage was highlighted, although the Italian didn't notice it. He didn't take his eyes off hers.

-I guess it shouldn't be difficult for you. You've done it once, you can do it twice.

-You are wrong, my dear Mio, because it was you who made me fall in love with you. And to this day I still wonder what I did to deserve your attention. - He confessed, sitting up straight. Without a single wrinkle on his jacket. -Speaking honestly, I fear I am not up to the task.

-If it's any consolation, I can tell you that what you're doing is working so far, Bethany said, cheering him up. Of course he needed to hear it. Ciro was a man more insecure than he might think.

The night didn't end with dinner, as when they left the restaurant, the Italian took her for a walk and then they went dancing. By the time they got home, the moon was already halfway up. They entered the mansion surrounded by laughter which died down when Brahim fell into view of the couple.

-What are you doing in my house so late at night? Is something wrong? -Ciro asked a little worried. Brahim approached them, completely ignoring his sister-in-law, as if she weren't there.

-I wanted to see you, that's all. I thought we could go for a drink.

-I left them. -Bethany intervened, already beginning to hate Brahim's presence. She turned to her fiancé, holding the blue jacket that now hung from his shoulders. -Thanks for tonight. I had a lot of fun.

-Thank you for appearing in my life. - He said before the prejudiced look of his brother. Brahim felt sorry for Ciro who had believed the fairy tales and the "they lived happily ever after" He, on the other hand, was more skeptical of the concept of love.

The owner of the house invited him to the basement that served as a wine cellar for storing and aging wine. It was a stone construction that contained wine cellars and wine cellars inside.

-I watched you so happy with Bethany and I can't help but wonder: what happened to Anne? - Brahim inquired. Standing with his hands in his pockets while his brother opted for a reservation. -Have you forgotten her already?

-Anne is already dead, Brahim. Let the dead rest in peace. - Ciro said, taking a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

The Tonali brothers sat around a small circular table made of Spanish oak and each grabbed a glass of wine.

-Let's toast to that-. -Ciro suggested, clinking his glass against the other's. The herbal flavors of the Cabernet drew a squeal of pleasure from their mouths.

-This wasn't what I had in mind when I came to find you. -Brahim said, seeming to disagree with drinking refined liquor in his brother's cellar.

-What did you have in mind?

-I was thinking of going to some bar and drinking beer, while we watched women dressed in lingerie, dancing on a pole. - Ciro shook his head emphatically.

-I'm a weak man, you know, and I quickly fall into temptation. The last thing I want right now is to be unfaithful to the woman I love. -He said, speaking from his heart. Brahim rolled his eyes, finding it too cheesy.

-Don't look at it that way. See it as an opportunity to pay her back in her own coin and be even with her.

- Pay him back in the same coin? What do you mean by that? - Brahim exhaled knowing that his brother was too naive to associate ideas.

-Well, she... was unfaithful to you. - The youngest of the Tonali brothers said very carefully, recognizing himself as the least appropriate person to remind her.

- Are you going to touch on that subject? Really? - Ciro snapped, looking at him suspiciously.

- Brother, we have already talked about this, Bethany is your wife, she was the one who owed you fidelity, not me. - He wanted to avoid his share of the blame. Ciro hit the oak wood with his closed fist. His eyes were lit with anger.

-And you! You are my brother, you owe me respect and loyalty! -He demanded irritatedly. -Do you really think I would do something like that to you? Do you think I'm capable of it? -Brahim's response was a long time coming. He had many things to say to her, but nothing that would temper her character. Bethany did not deserve him, much less did she deserve his loyalty, which, luckily for her and unfortunately for Brahim, she had assured.

-I know you wouldn’t. - he said finally, holding back what he really wanted to say. -I’m sorry.

-Don't tell me you regret it. Prove it by showing me the loyalty and respect you should have had from the beginning.

-I promise you it will be so. -said Brahim, a man of few words.

-I hope so, because I plan to make her my wife and I don't plan on keeping a constant eye on her. Much less protecting her from my own brother.

-What did you say?- he exclaimed, stunned. -Your wife? That’s why you’ve been wearing that ring all these days.

-After a decade together, it's time to commit to eternity. - He drank his Cabernet.

-Love has definitely damaged your brain cells. Have you forgotten how you ended up with Anne? That witch was about to ruin you, or rather, ruin us, because half of your fortune belongs to me.

-Don't you dare compare Anne to Bethany. She's nothing like her, he warned through gritted teeth. It made him extremely angry that she reminded him of Anne.

-It's exactly the same. And you'll end up the same way you did with Johnson. - Ciro shook his head, convinced.

-I know she doesn't. And when she recovers, she'll remember how much she loves me and how much I love her, and we'll have a happy life.

-Define your concept of recovery. - Brahim asked, facing his brother. -I remind you that there are some details that it is better to forget for life.

-The appreciation he feels for you, for example. - Said Ciro closing the conversation, tired of his brother's bad wishes.